Dedicated to: Jhimli2301

"As vast as the sea,
Lusher and greener than leaves of a tree...
Heavier than a dark monsoon cloud,
Much dryer than a land hit by drought.
A sight the naked eye can see,
Much beyond the line of sight,
A thought can brighten up a day, can fill the dark with light.
The memories from the past are cherished and loved,
Yet some continue to haunt us throughout our lives...
The recollection of a moment, that makes us drown in nostalgia, urges us to laugh or cry,
A vivid image of the moment that continues to live with us long
After the sun has set and the moment has passed.
The distant image that our mind conjures to help us relive the past,
Outlives the monuments and stone carvings that time reduces to dust.

-Elegiac_Damsel

_____

4th August

Third person's point of view:

Every coin has two sides; distinctly opposite ones. Both contribute equally to the value of the coin. The two sides are destined to journey together, complementing one another, incomplete without each other. 

They are bound together, but they never meet. Two parallel and opposite sides never touch the same surface at a given time.

Memories; a word that can refer to all the great moments, the most beautiful ones that have graced our life and ironically, the same word that can also be used for all those moments that may have given us just pain and agony.

The good and bad memories constitute the coin called life.

It was just another monsoon morning and Anindita was at home. Her early morning flight to Istanbul via Dubai had been cancelled due to heavy showers. Her head was throbbing with pain due to deprived sleep. She was laying down on the bed, her fingers massaging her temples.

Her eyelids were shut close while her loose hair sprawled across the light blue linen of her bed. A few moments later, Anindita felt the mattress dip beside her and her mother's long, slender fingers with uneven, sharp nails running through her hair, massaging the scalp.

"You are again having a migraine, Ani?" Apurba asked her daughter, her voice laced with concern

Anindita nodded slightly, her scrunched up features straightening and relaxing in response to Apurba's gentle, soothing action.

"Do you want me to oil your hair for you? It will give you some relief sweetheart and your hair is in pathetic condition anyways. And is that a grey hair?" Apurba asked away, her voice sounding bewildered and astounded as she held up a strand of silvery white hair from Anindita's mass of jet black tresses

Anindita smiled up, her eyes opening to meet her mother's, "Your daughter is ageing too, Ma. She isn't growing any younger with the years."

Her eyes were sparkling with the same kiddish glint that Apurba had been used to seeing in her daughter. 

She had always been a dynamic kid with never exhausting energy. Apurba found herself reminiscing the moments when she would run behind Anindita with a comb in hand, struggling to comb her hair, threatening her daughter that she would lose all of it if she didn't let her mother oil and comb it. Anindita's screams and tears would fill up the entire chawl whenever she would be dragged into the house, her hair flying everywhere. 

"I will oil it now. Go and sit in the living room. I'll heat some oil. Go!" Apurba told her 30 year old daughter decisively, who was grinning in a goofy manner

"What are you grinning about?"

"You still treat me like a baby, Ma." she replied

"Even with a baby in your arms, you would still be my baby." Apurba spoke out in a flurry, not realizing her words

The smile got wiped out from Anindita's face in reflex, as she got up abruptly. Ironing out her expression, she said, "I am going to the living room. You'll oil my hair right Ma?"

Apurba nodded slightly, looking away, hiding her tear filled eyes.

...

Flashback

1996- when Anindita was 6 years old

"Ma! I want to get married." Anindita told her mother firmly as she plopped herself down on the floor in the kitchen where her mother was cooking

Apurba laughed at her daughter's words. She reduced the intensity of the flame and bent to face her daughter who had crossed her arms and was sitting there with her chin up, in a haughty, indifferent manner.

"What gave you this idea now?" 

"The girl on the 3rd floor is getting married. She got so many new clothes! Her father even got her a new red sari. And Ma, her mother was applying henna, all the way till here." she said excitedly, her hand pointing to the bend of her elbow.

"Ma, how will she eat now?" she asked even before her mother could absorb why her daughter wanted to get married

"Someone would feed her." Apurba said impatiently before beginning to explain her daughter, "You get new clothes on your birthday, baby. You don't have to marry for new clothes."

Anindita huffed, looking away, her lips pursed as  she stated firmly, "I want to get married Ma. I can eat so many dishes... Everyone would come and take a photograph with me. They will give me gifts and..."

"And you will have to leave me, Baba and Dada and go away." Apurba finished for her

Anindita's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as she looked up at her mother, "Why would I leave you and go?"

When Apurba took her time to respond, Anindita's face turned grim, her lower lip started trembling and her eyes filled with tears, "You are sending me away to a hostel, Ma? I don't want to go away Ma. I will be a good girl... Don't send me away. I will not ask for a new dress for my marriage..."

Apurba cut her off, "Silly girl! We are not sending you to a hostel."

Anindita sniffed, her gaze boring into her mother's soft ones as she spoke, her voice becoming stern, "But if you don't study and go about gallivanting with those future loafers, your Baba and I will send you away to boarding school."

"I will not. I promise. But what about my marriage?" she asked again, her solemn outburst forgotten as her eyes lighting up in excitement again

"Baby, listen to me. Firstly, if you get married, then you will be the bride. The bride has to fast all day. She cannot eat till the wedding gets over." Apurba told Anindita softly

Her smile vanished, getting replaced by a grimace, "No food? But they make so much Ma!"

Apurba laughed at her expression.

"Food! Food! And more food! Do I not feed you?" 

Anindita pretended to think for a moment and then replied, "You don't make sweets or ice-cream. At weddings, they give us as many as we want."

She licked her lips happily reminiscing the taste.

"Stop that. You don't eat so much ice cream. You simply drop it or it melts before you finish eating. Now listen to me. If you get married, you will have to leave us and our home. You will have to shift to a new home. Your husband's home." Apurba explained her gently

Anindita's eyes widened this time, her voice low and soft, whispering in perplexity, "Why? I don't want to go anywhere."

"I live here with your Baba. Just like that sweetheart." Apurba told her taking her daughter in her arms

Anindita wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, her face buried into her neck, "I'll never leave you and Baba. I will not go away. I will never get married."

Apurba patted her daughter's head, thinking in her mind that one day perhaps her princess would love, marry and grow up to nurture a family of her own. Her reverie and thoughts were brought to a screeching halt by Anindita's voice screeching 'Ewwww'

When she looked at her, Anindita grimaced and said, "You smell of turmeric and mustard oil!"

...

Present day

Apurba was applying coconut oil to Anindita's hair, reminiscing moments from her daughter's childhood. 

She had been adamant to get married and it had taken a lot of coaxing and tactful thinking on Apurba's part in order to mollify and explain Anindita. The tables had turned now. The memories stung. 

Anindita's words, "I will never get married", though spoken in innocence all those years ago had held true. 

Apurba was reeling in a swirl of emotions wondering if it had been a boon or a curse. Her daughter had held on to her and her ailing husband at a point when most children labelled their parents as 'liabilities', but the beautiful girl from her childhood and teenage years, one who had nurtured all kinds of dreams regarding marriage, love and her own family, had been deprived. 

"Ma?" Anindita acknowledged Apurba, bringing her out of her reverie

"Yes?" 

"Thank you for this. It's been so many years Ma, but it still feels as refreshing and relaxing." Anindita told her mother fondly

"Relaxing? Refreshing? Oh please! The way you would scream and screech, anyone would think that I was torturing my baby. And you are thanking your mother?" Apurba commented playfully

Anindita smiled, her initially creased forehead now straightened. 

"Ma, you always loved Dada more than me, but why did you not put any effort into oiling and combing his hair like you did with mine?"

Apurba laughed, "And who told you that I loved Anurag more than I love you?"

"Baba told me." she replied, shrugging

"You are an idiot. Your Baba told you so purposely because she always wanted you to love him more. He manipulated you into thinking that I am the villain and always took the opportunity to pamper you endlessly after I had been done scolding or punishing you." 

Anindita absorbed this information and pretended to think, "Well you did show no mercy while scolding or punishing me. At least Baba didn't scold me."

"And what about the time when you sneaked out of the house and tried to pull up a stunt by climbing over the ledge in the balcony at the chawl?"

Anindita shifted uncomfortably, shaking her head, "That was just once and he scolded and grounded me because he didn't want to lose me. At least he didn't scold me for licking pickle directly from the jar."

Her mother was left gaping. How easily had her daughter forgiven her darling father, but had not forgotten the time when Apurba had twisted her ears for stealing pickle.

It was raining now. The droplets of rain were rolling down the sliding window in the living room. The sky was overcast and the weather was moist. Even at 11 a.m. in the morning, the lights had to be switched on for clear visibility in the room. 

Anindita was staring out of the window, humming a tune softly as Apurba continued to vigorously massage her head and scalp. 

Sensing that she was in a good mood, Apurba proceed to ask her hesitantly what she had been meaning to ask since morning, "Sweetheart? Will you be here next week?"

Anindita stiffened at her mother's question. She was well aware of what her mother was referring to. Inhaling calmly, she replied in a fake nonchalant manner, "I obviously have to go Ma. You know that I need to. Ms. Thomas would be there with you and Baba if you need anything."

"Ms. Thomas isn't my daughter, Ani. You know what I was asking you about. It is your birthday and...."

"Ma!" Anindita interrupted her sharply, "I don't want to talk about this again. I need some space. Please don't!"

"It's been 8 years, Ani. Why don't you realize that the day has some significance in my life? In your Baba's life... You had been born 22 years before this..."

"Before my world turned upside down?" Anindita asked Apurba exasperated

Her eyes were flashing with anger and hurt. She got up abruptly and walked out of the living room, slamming the door to her bedroom, twisting her hair up into a high bun.

...

Anindita was laying down on her bed again. 

The same headache that had been alleviated had surfaced again, this time way worse than before. She closed her eyes inhaling and exhaling, her chest heaving. 

The day she was born brought a mixture of memories to her. Just as she could retrospect the elaborately cooked lunches and wrapped presents that her parents had always arranged for her, she couldn't help but remember the day when calamity had befallen her.

Ever since she had started earning, she would make it a point to stay away from her parents and the rest of her family on each of her birthdays. It pained her because they reminded her of what life had been before she had turned 22. 

A few minutes later, Anindita got up from bed holding her heavy head. She opened her wardrobe, searching for her medicine box. Grabbing an ibuprofen and ranitidine (Zantac), she threw the pills down her throat, washing it down with water. 

A minute later, she crouched, scrounging for something amidst the clothes that she had last worn in college and her old saris. She finally pulled out a binder from there.

A photo album.

She walked back to her bed and sat down relaxed, leaning against the headboard. She flipped through the pages, stopping at a few pictures, running her palm over them fondly.

A picture of Apurba holding her in her arms. The picture was black and white. Although color pictures had become quite popular in the nineties, they had been too expensive for their modest household. 

A ghost of Anindita's smile appeared on her face as she found a picture where Anurag was pulling her hair and she was crying. Agastya was trying to pry his son away from his two year old sister while Apurba had captured the picture. 

There were numerous photographs. As the years had progressed, they had all grown in age, changed in appearance and the black and white photographs had paved way for color photographs. 

In one of the photographs, Anindita was holding Aparajita in her arms. 

She smiled marveling at the little baby who had grown and had now been blessed to carry her own baby. 

She flipped the page. A picture where she was on Agastya's lap, playing with his spectacles. She smiled and for some reason unknown to her, tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

She shut the album and closed her eyes again, trying to focus on the happy things in her life. 

The memories began from childhood, continued throughout school life with a few glitches. Her college life had given her the best memories, ending abruptly with her 22nd birthday. 

She hadn't much recollection of that day, but everything that had transpired that day had shaken her.

Behind the facade of a strong woman who seemed unbothered about everything, existed the young, vulnerable girl who had been subjected to hostility and pain; a victim who had suffered due to someone's lowly crime.

She shook her head when the memories started going down the dark alley. She tried imagining how happiness looked like; it looked like Agamani, completed with blemishes and goodness, not unlike Anindita.

 Agamani; that strange ray of sunshine that had illuminated her otherwise dull life. Her schedule had been monotonous and colorless. She had gone about her work, had stopped to spend a part of her hard earned money for some luxuries and had drowned herself in the present, trying blatantly to ignore every aspect of her past.

She had urged Satyaki to take out his forgotten photo albums to go down memory lane. Ironically, her own albums had accumulated dust with the years that had transpired, since they had been buried under her long obliterated clothes from the past.  

 The shut photo album in her hand reminded her of the day she had spent at Satyaki's home, sharing his journey down memory lane with Agamani...

Flashback:

"Papa, why is Mumma so fat?" Agamani had asked Satyaki, pointing to a picture where her mother had been heavily pregnant

Anindita had suppressed a giggle that had been threatening to escape her lips. Agamani had practically asked 50 irrelevant and irksome queries that neither Satyaki nor Anindita had any legitimate answer to. 

"You were in there." Satyaki told his daughter, pointing at his wife's baby bump

Agamani's eyes widened and she blurted out in astonishment, "Mumma gobbled me up like the big bad wolf!"

Anindita caught on and broke into a fit of chortles. Satyaki looked bewildered and confused.

"What big bad wolf are you talking about and why would your mother gobble you up.... What nonsense?"

It took Anindita all her resolve and self control to stop giggling and to say gently, "She was talking about the big bad wolf who gobbled up the seven kids when mother goat went out."

Agamani bobbed her head up and down, nodding in agreement. 

"Why did she gobble me up Papa? Did you cut her stomach open to get me out, like mother goat did?" she asked her father earnestly

Satyaki looked at Anindita helplessly. His face was blanched and it was apparent that his daughter had landed him in a sticky situation.

Anindita beckoned Agamani to come closer and explained her patiently, "She did not gobble you up, baby. That is how babies are born."

"How did I come inside her stomach?"

Satyaki choked violently and Anindita looked like a deer caught in headlights. What was one supposed to tell a girl who was yet to complete 6 years?

At the end, after some quick thinking and a nod of reassurance, Anindita had proceeded to reply, "Children are.... gifts from God. When two people love one another, God gifts them a baby. He sends the baby to the mother's belly and there the baby grows before being born."

"Doesn't it hurt? Mumma's belly looks so heavy!" Agamani was ready with her next query even before Anindita had completed her statement

"Baby, how many chocolates would you like, in return for a few minutes of silence sans questions?" Anindita asked the little girl, sighing audibly

"I don't want chocolates." she replied, folding her arms and pursing her lips in a defiant manner

Satyaki knew that he would have to answer her and divert the topic tactfully. What was he thinking when he had taken out this particular photo album?

"It hurts for sometime, but mothers don't mind, Dugga. Your mother didn't either. She was happy when you were born. The physical pain and everything else was compensated for with your birth."

"Why didn't you help her to carry me?"

Anindita slapped her palm on her forehead while Satyaki wordlessly stood up and left the room with the photo album. 

Agamani was unperturbed. Her query had already been forgotten and had been replaced by another, "Anindita Auntie? Why did Papa show me the photo albums today? He has never done so before."

Anindita took Agamani in her arms and whispered to her softly, "He misses your mumma like you do. He wanted to share a few memories with you."

"Why do we share memories?"

"Because sharing our pain gives us relief and because sharing happy memories helps us relive those good times. You can know so much about your Mumma and Papa, sweetheart."

...

Anindita was brought back to the present by a knock on the door. 

She lifted herself from the bed and arranged a smile on her face before opening the door. 

It was Apurba. She had come to check on her daughter who had locked herself inside the room for over an hour.

"Are you okay, Ani?" 

"Yes Ma. I am fine."

"Come out and sit with me. Please."

Anindita put an arm around her mother's shoulder telling her softly, "I am not upset or angry Ma. I am fine."

Apurba nodded and smiled before asking her daughter reluctantly, "When are you going next week and when will you be back?"

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 13th July 2020

Author's note:

Hello everyone. I cannot really apologize for such a late and rough update but this was all that I could manage.

I am sorry for it! There, I apologized.

I hope you all are well and healthy.

Take care in troubled times and stay safe. 

I am expecting my results and I am nervous. I am trying to keep my cool and am praying silently. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE pray for students like me.

With love,

Shubhadittya

P.S. Please do VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE if you feel Reflection and I are deserving enough.